Dry Tortugas wins out as one of the most remote national parks I have ever been to. It sits almost as far away from Key West as Cuba, a tiny mound of rock and brick and sand silently guarding the Union and it's watery resources from the clutches of the wily Confederacy and their devastating navy. The Gulf of Mexico was held by the Union from this point and it's awfully big guns. You can sail there, if you have your own boat; otherwise you hop on board one of two or so ferries operated by official park concessionaires. We went with Yankee Freedom and it's resident interpreters and were not disappointed (though some of us didn't have the proper sea legs!).
Not only does the fort in the middle of the ocean reek of its military past, but it also hails infamy from a history of superb bird watching, moat sharks, a hangout for Portuguese Man O' War, and (of course) pirates! Rumors of sunken treasure float as freely and copiously as the barracuda that stalk oblivious snorkelers in the island's shallow waters, and every discarded boat-part-turned-coral-reef looks at first to be remnants of the Black Pearl.
It's a bit of a jaunt that demands a pre-dawn wake-up call and, for those faint of stomach, a couple of well placed dramamine, but the trip is well worth it to see this gem of a park in our off-shore tropical paradise.
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In my defense, I've never been seasick in my long, long boat filled life. Be nice.
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